


the kids aren't alright

by burdenedwithgloriousfandoms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers (eventually) got back together after Civil War, Avengers don't know Peter Parker is Spider-Man, Clint and Sam are the Bird Bros, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Fluff, Homeless Peter Parker, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trans Peter Parker, background stucky but i love my bois i couldnt keep them out of this, iron dad and spider-son, no beta we die like [redacted], sorry may ily but its for the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-01-16 10:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18520075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burdenedwithgloriousfandoms/pseuds/burdenedwithgloriousfandoms
Summary: Peter Parker stops in front of the building. His milkshake drops to the dirty concrete, unheeded. Around him the ashes fall from the sky, and smoke fills his lungs as he watches the skeletal remains of their apartment burn.Sirens are screaming around him. But it's too late. There's nothing left.When several firemen appear out of the rubble, carrying a fresh white sheet laid over a stretcher, and give him pitying looks, he turns away, tears clouding his vision.And then he runs.-Spider-Man has been missing for eight months and six days.Peter Parker has been missing for seven months and twenty-eight days, but no one's worried about him.No one except his friends and Tony Stark.





	1. in memoriam

_SPIDER-MAN STILL MISSING: NO SIGN OF QUEEN'S LOCAL HERO FOR OVER EIGHT MONTHS_

 

The newspaper flutters in the wind, pinned in the wire mesh of the gate below, as if taunting him.

Peter swings his legs slowly back and forth, buries his stiff hands deeper into his tattered red hoodie, and glares at it.

He's perched on the edge of a building above an empty trash-filled alleyway, avoiding the rush hour below. New York's streets are filled to the brim with people hurrying in all directions, cars beeping, gangs of teenagers skulking in the shadows of apartment blocks: not a good place for a homeless kid with scarily heightened senses to be.

The newspaper flaps noisily at him. He pauses the swing of his legs to aim a good kick at it, and it tears free from its confinement and goes flying down the street. He watches it with a mix of anger and sadness burning inside him.

Queens, the city- hell, the world- was crying out for Spider-Man. Peter was too.

But the suit had burned along with the apartment, May, his life- and so Spider-Man was gone. It was just Peter. He didn't do it anymore, and soon enough the world would realise they really were better off without him, because he hurt everyone he loved.

And he won't let himself do that to anyone else (won't let him do it to himself). Not again.

 

The wind is cold, cold with the promise that winter is coming (for a moment he amuses himself with quoting Game of Thrones, but then memories of him and Ned surface that make him blink back tears). Peter really does hate the cold. It's gotta be a spider thing, because it was never this bad before the bite.

Plus he's hungry. Luckily, he'd had thirty dollars in his bag when... when he'd run, but that was all long gone. Now all he had was the occasional dollar bill someone had pitied him enough to give.

Nowhere near enough for a kid with an insane metabolism, but he's got used to it. He's had to get used to it. But the lack of food and good sleep and the bloody cold are getting to him and he's so weak. So damn weak.

 

-

 

_SPIDER-MAN STILL MISSING: NO SIGN OF QUEEN'S LOCAL HERO FOR OVER EIGHT MONTHS_

 

The flying scrap of newspaper hits Tony directly in the face, and only once he manages to pull it off and dodge a stray pile of dog shit (seriously people, pick up after your animals! These are expensive shoes!) does he see the headline. A sudden rush of the familiar mix of anxiety, regret and tiredness causes him to stop and sit down heavily on a convenient bench, still gripping the newspaper.

 

_The friendly neighbourhood vigilante that had become a familiar sight on the streets of Queens and earned a place in our hearts has not been seen since March. No one seems to know what's happened to him, or if he's even alive. Worryingly, none of the Avengers appear to know any more than we do. Where is Spider-Man? Why has he suddenly disappeared? Does anyone know who he really is?_

_For all our theories on the mysterious disappearance and who could've been behind the mask, turn to page two._

_For information on all the local groups on the lookout for Spider-Man, and the whereabouts of memorials in your area, turn to page five._

 

He's tried to find the kid, he really has. But when he'd gone to his and May's apartment, there was nothing left. A few phone calls later and he'd worked out this much:

The apartment burnt down three weeks ago.

May was among the four dead. She had been helping an elderly neighbour out when the building collapsed.

The last known sighting of Peter was him leaving school nine days later. He hadn't mentioned the death of his Aunt, but teachers had noticed he'd been looking rough and falling asleep in class more than usual.

Then he'd just stopped coming.

Probably to avoid CPS. Tony could see why the kid didn't want to go into foster care.

MJ and Ned didn't know where he'd gone either. Peter hadn't told them anything (they'd been shocked when Tony had cornered them one day after school and after interrogating them, shared all he knew about the poor kid).

And no one had any idea where he was, or if he was even alive.

 

'God, Pete, where are you?' Tony murmurs to the grey sky above.

 

-

 

Peter walks along the sidewalk (like a normal person, not swinging through the air at high speed), his scuffed shoes mashing into oblivion the already mashed flower petals strewn across the concrete. He looks up, searching for their source, and almost immediately wishes he hadn't - staring back at him, spray painted on a wall is Spider-Man's face. Flowers are clumped around the base of the wall, both fresh and wilted, bought and hand-picked, and there's cards and posters and kid's drawings with messages like 'We miss you Spider-Man' 'Please be okay. You saved my niece and so many others, you can always turn to us if you need help.' 'thank you', even a simple 'RIP'.

He finds himself frozen to the spot, unable to look away from the memorial, the memorial to _him_ , and so he just stands there, in the middle of the pathway, tears silently running down his cheeks.

Eventually he feels a presence next to him, and jumps slightly when a voice speaks up.

 

'I still think he's out there, you know. Something's happened, but hard times fall on the best of us, and he'll get through it. I know he will.'

Peter turns and looks at the speaker, who appears to be a man, in his eighties? Nineties? gazing down at him, a slight smile on his lips and the corners of his eyes crinkled behind his glasses. He looks... slightly familiar?

'You reckon?' His voice sounds so small, so shaky, and croaky from disuse.

'Yeah. I do. And whatever's happening with him, I hope he knows that the whole of New York is behind him.'

The man pats him on the shoulder, gives him another smile (a knowing smile, like he can see right through Peter) and then disappears off into the evening.

 

Peter stays there for a few more minutes, the spray painted Spider-Man staring back at him, and then sighs heavily and continues on his way to the abandoned warehouse he'd been sleeping in. Truly five star accommodation, with its (mostly) sealed roof and a network of steel beams high up that he could curl up on.

If there's one thing about his powers that he's glad for right now, it's his climbing ability. He doesn't usually have to spend the night leaning against a wall or under a bridge like most homeless people, and for that, he really is grateful. It lessens the risk of someone stealing the backpack containing the few belongings he has left, or him getting beaten up, and it means he can get a bit more out of the weather.

 

So when he gets to the overgrown plot of land, he jumps the fence and climbs in through a gap between the side wall and the roof, crawls along the beams and heads back to his little corner.

His stomach is rumbling, and he allows himself the rest of the muesli bar that a random kind man had given him the other day.

The chill settles in, and he huddles up beneath his hoodie. It's going to be another long night.


	2. burgers and bird bros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one person mentioned my subtle stan lee cameo in the last chapter... maybe it was too subtle??  
> thank you so much for all the kind comments so far <3

'Hey, hey Tony, you okay?' Clint looks down the table at him.

'Yeah, you know me, I'm always okay.' He says, completely deadpan. Clint and Nat share a look. Bruce puts down his fork.

'Tony.'

'What, green bean?'

Bruce sighs. 'You've been even worse than usual the last few months. Not sleeping, spending way too much time in your lab, taking random walks around the city at really odd hours... what's up?'

Steve, Bucky, and Sam (Vision and Wanda are off on a date) are also looking at him now, and he groans internally.

'You know Spider-Man, right?'

Most of the table looks confused, but Natasha's eyes light up and she bites her lip.

'Uh. Yeah, of course, you took him to Germany. But what's he got to do with anything?' Clint asks.

'He's missing. He's been missing for eight months.'

'Oh.' The archer breathes out, and turns to Nat. 'I heard about that. SHIELD's worried too.'

Bruce touches Tony's hand gently. 'I'm sure he'll show up soon. He's why you've been monitoring all those villains so closely, right?'

'Yeah. I thought at first that he might've been captured, but the suit should have notified me and there's not really anyone particularly active right now who's likely to have done it.'

'Not even Doom? We've fought him with Spidey before.'

'No, not even Doom.'

'Well, shit.'

'Yeah.'

'He's a nice guy.' Steve says thoughtfully. 'I really hope he's okay. He... he seemed young.'

'Mm.' Tony replies, dodging a proper answer. 'He has seriously crazy powers. Might be stronger than you, Cap.'

'I tried to punch him.' says Bucky.

'And he grabbed your fist and complemented you.' Sam snickers.

'Yep. So, yeah, he might be stronger than Stevie.'

'Oy.' Steve grumbles.

'Well, Tony,' Bruce says, ignoring the argument starting on the other side of the table, 'why don't we have an impromptu movie night. Take your mind off Spider-Man. You can't do anything right now.'

Clint cheers, grabs his empty plate and heads off to make popcorn.

 

-

 

The morning is bright but the chill of frost doesn't leave him for several hours. Peter watches the fluffy white clouds overhead, scudding across the pale blue sky, and leans against his wall. It's a good wall, sunny and warm most of the day, and on a street busy enough he gets the occasional bit of pity money or lunch leftovers, but not so busy that he's in the way. There's a couple of cafés nearby, which is good, because although they make his stomach rumble, the owners sometimes give him food and there's a bathroom there he can use.

 

There's also no security cameras, something he's wary of. If SHIELD or Mr Stark are trying to track him down for Spider-Man (and let's be honest, who would want Peter without Spider-Man?), then the less security camera records he shows up on the better.

Since Germany, he'd been to the Tower with Mr Stark a few times, and fought with the Avengers twice since the accords were settled and they'd returned to New York. But he doesn't want to ask them for help, because he'd just be endangering them too, and without Spider-Man, he'd just be a disappointment. Without Spider-Man, he was just a hungry, worthless kid from Queens.

 

A police car races past him, siren blaring, breaking him from his thoughts. Peter looks back up at the sky above and loses himself again in the clouds.

 

 

He manages to score himself three dollars over the day, and so heads to a nearby corner store.

It's getting dark out, and the lights and heating of the little shop are very welcome.

There's so much good food (so many things he would've bought without a thought before all this), but he's only got three dollars. In the end he picks a sandwich (ham and cheese just like May used to make - the thought makes him tear up slightly) and heads over to the counter. The worker eyes him worriedly. Peter can't really tell if it's because of his thin, grimy frame or that she thinks he's going to steal from her.

He puts the sandwich on the counter and hands over the crumpled three dollars.

'It's 4.'

'I... I don't have any more money. I'm sorry.' He does his best puppy eyes at her, and she sighs.

'You on the streets, kid?'

Peter looks down at his feet. 'Uh. Yeah.'

'How old are you?'

'S-sixteen.'

'God. Okay.' She passes her hand over her face. 'Look, here you go.'

She hands him the sandwich as well as an apple from somewhere behind the counter.

'Thank you! Thank you so much.' He clutches them close to his chest (as if she's going to take them back, he thinks with disgust at himself. She has every right to).

'Good luck, kid. And be careful out there.'

'I will. Thank you.' He races back out into the night, a little spark of happiness burning in his heart.

 

He heads back to the warehouse, a smile splitting the chapped skin on his lips (a smile is truly a rare sight these days), but as soon as he nears the fence the happiness is extinguished.

There's a truck and a couple of cars outside the building and light spilling out from inside. He turns away.

Great. Time to move on. Again.

 

And just then, because his Parker Luck seems to still be a thing, the heavens open up and the freezing rain starts pelting down.

 

-

 

That night he hears someone getting beaten up nearby to the dripping awning he's taken shelter beneath.

He covers his ears, and doesn't do anything.

He doesn't have the energy to.

 

The yells of pain echo in his mind the rest of the night, and between that and the damp and cold he barely gets an hour of even half-sleep. At least the rain stops just before dawn, and the sunrise is nice. Notice the positives and hold onto them tightly, May had always told him. And don't let them go.

 

-

 

'Keep up, asshole!'

'If you're gonna be like this, I may as well go back to running with Stucky!' Sam pants, clutching his side.

'You _wouldn't_.' Clint gasps, mock offended.

'I would. You know me, I always keep my word.'

'Nooo, but I need a running buddy! Nat's scary. Please? Don't abandon me!' Clint swoons, grabbing Sam's shoulder, and Sam can't help but laugh.

'Look, I’m puffed, I need a break, we've run a long way, how about we stop for food?'

'You sure know the way to a man's heart, birdbrain.'

'Hey! Birdbrain yourself!'

 

They end up in a wonderfully warm burger joint, sitting at a bench overlooking the street outside. Clint takes an enormous bite of his frankly quite large burger and moans.

'Ohh yeah, I can _feel_ the greasiness filling my soul.'

'You're going to die one day.'

'Aren't we all.'

'You're going to die soon.'

'I mean, we have a job that pretty much guarantees that. May as well go out in a blaze of burger-filled glory.'

Sam huffs and shakes his head, deciding to start on his own burger rather than argue this fruitless topic any longer.

When he eventually looks up, half way through losing himself in the beautiful lump of calories, Clint's stopped eating and is instead gazing out the window.

'Ah, fuck. Poor kid.'

'Hm?' Sam asks, and Clint points across the street at a teenage boy huddled against a wall, eyes closed. 'God. He looks so thin.'

'I wonder what he's on the streets for.'

'Yeah.'

When he takes his eyes off the kid's skinny frame, and looks back to the man beside him, Clint's got that faraway look in his eyes that Sam often sees with his clients.

'It's hard.' He eventually speaks up. 'I was homeless before I joined the circus. Had nothing left in the world, after my parents and- and then Barney, y'know...' he draws a finger across his throat 'Nothing 'cept for my sister, and I did everything I could for her. Including going hungry. It was cold. Damn cold, every night. And I had to protect her, and myself.' He looks over at Sam, years of memories clouding his eyes. 'But we made it.'

'You did.'

'Look where she is now. Got kids and a soldier hubby and a farm. God, I'm so proud of her. And she is of me. Look where I am now.'

'Beating my ass at jogging.'

'Damn right I am.' Clint's smile returns slowly, and he looks back out the window. 'And I am buying that kid his damn lunch.'

 

-

 

Peter's Spidey sense goes off all of a sudden while he's snoozing in the sun in front of his wall. He almost leaps straight up onto the wall, but it's more of a friendly warning.

It's faint too, but so are all his powers from the lack of food.

 

And then he spots the two men heading straight for him.

One of them's got dark skin and warm brown eyes, a cap emblazoned with Captain America's shield shading his face. The other is more muscly, with pale skin and brownish hair, wearing a T-shirt featuring a bird in Hawkeye's costume holding a bow.

It's only when they're both sitting down on his left against the wall that he realises who they are. 'Holy shit. You're Hawkeye and Falcon.'

'The Bird Bros, in the flesh.'

'I... I like your shirt.' Peter's fanboying internally. It's not like he hasn't met them before it's just that, well, they are _the freaking Avengers_ , and he webbed Sam to the ground that one time- _Fuck_.

Is that why they're here? Have they found out who Spider-Man was?

 

His sudden panic must show on his face, because Clint lays a gentle hand on his arm. Peter flinches and Clint gives him an... understanding?? look. 'Kid, don't worry, we're not going to do anything to you. Just noticed you while we were eating and thought you could use a meal.'

'Wait, really?' His voice is soft and he can't quite believe his eyes as Sam hands him a grease-stained paper bag. Inside is a warm, heavenly smelling burger. He breathes it in and nearly cries. The half sandwich in his backpack is forgotten as he unwraps the burger. 'Oh my god, thank you.'

'No problem. Look after yourself. Be careful.'

Peter looks up from the burger and a grin lights up his face. He sees Clint and Sam melt a little. 'Thank you, thank you, thank you!'

The two give him another smile and Clint waves as they head back off into the bustle of the sidewalk.

 

-

 

Clint finds an excuse to go back past the kid's wall the next day.

He's not there.

Clint stands and stares at the empty bricks, shaking his head. There's something about this kid that has stuck. He can't stop thinking about him.

 

-

 

Although food is always welcome, Peter doesn't really fancy being tracked down by any of the Avengers, or god forbid, SHIELD.

So that evening he heads off through the streets again until he finds a suitable wall under an awning, shrugs and puts his backpack down. This'll do, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, comments make my day!! if you like a work, always comment, because the author is sure to appreciate it  
> ahahaha 4 days until i get to see endgame im scared
> 
> (btw the mention of clint's sister is laura barton, because i dont like what they did in aou i write her as his younger sister and the kids as his nieces/nephews that he adores. barney is canonically clint's older bro in some comic somewhere idk anymore but yeah)
> 
>  
> 
> just uploaded a very short stucky one-shot type thing, it's sad but maybe go check it out if it interests you? https://archiveofourown.org/works/18543727


	3. oh, how the mighty fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no endgame spoilers, just a new chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi there (I've taken a break in my post-endgame screaming to bring you this)
> 
> -
> 
> Btw, I forgot to mention earlier, this is set about a year after civil war? Ragnarok has happened but not Infinity War (bear with me sorry) and the Asgardians have settled in New Asgard in Norway. So Bruce and Thor are bros (maybe more ;) ), Bruce lives in the tower with the rest of the avengers. Thor (and Loki bc I love him) will visit sometimes

 

 

It's almost a week later when Sam's out running with Bucky (unfortunately Clint had been up watching The Lord of the Rings with Tony and taking shots every time a handsome man appeared on screen. They were still passed out on the couch) and he passes a familiar figure huddled against a different wall.

 

'Wait, Buck, hold up!'

'Got a stitch, bird boy?'

'Well, yes, but stop!'

Bucky stops with a sigh. 'What is it?'

Sam points at the kid. 'It's that homeless boy Clint and I met.'

'Oh. Huh.' Bucky squints at the fraying jeans and dirty converse sticking out beneath a large tattered red hoodie. He appears to be asleep.

Sam takes a step towards him and suddenly the boy glances over his shoulder, wide brown eyes staring straight at them. The sight of Sam doesn't seem to calm him down, but he doesn't run. Bucky watches cautiously.

 

'Hey, buddy, remember me?'

'Sam. Falcon.' His eyes are still wide, and there's a bruise on his cheek that is barely visible under his hood.

'What- what happened to your cheek?'

'Ah. Um. Nothing.'

'Okay.' Sam says, and the boy looks surprised when he doesn't press further.

'Why are you here?'

'Me? I was just passing through, with Bucky,' Bucky gives him a wave from several metres away, 'and I noticed you and thought I'd say hi.'

'Oh.'

'You know, I don't even know your name.'

Worry flashes across the kid's face and Sam wishes he could take his words back. 'You don't have to tell me, of course.'

He looks slightly relieved. 'Right.'

'Anyway, I'll see if I have anything I can give you. You look like you need it.' He rummages his his backpack, and draws out his wallet. There's only a fifty in there. Oh well.

Sam hands it to the kid but he immediately shoves it back. 'No, no, I can't take your money.'

'Eh, it's probably Tony's. We've got plenty.'

The mention of Tony, for some reason, seems to agitate him more. 'No! I'm not taking it.'

'You sure?'

'Yeah.'

'Uh, well in that case,' he rummages in the bag again and draws out a couple of muesli bars, 'this okay?'

The kid all but snatches them straight from him. 'Yes, yes please.'

Sam wonders when he'd last eaten. Probably way too long ago.

 

He gives the kid one last smile and leaves him clutching tightly to the muesli bars.

'Huh.' Bucky says, and they start walking again.

'Huh?'

'He's afraid of someone stealing his food. That's usual. But he's also hiding something, I'd say.'

'Mm. Yeah.'

'Poor kid.'

'I kinda wish we could just bring him back to the Tower with us. But Tony would throw a fit and... it's really not the best place for a kid, with it being a massive target for any villains like once a month.'

'Oh well.' Bucky takes a last look back at the boy, stretches his metal arm and grins cockily at Sam. 'Race you back to the Tower, bird boy.'

'Hey! Not fair!' Sam yells as he races off.

 

-

 

'I saw that kid again.' Sam says as he enters the living room, wiping his sweaty face on a towel.

Clint squints at him, perched on the breakfast bar, obviously nursing a headache. 'Huh.'

'What kid?' Tony asks from where he's still lying on the couch, clutching a mug of coffee.

'Oh, Clint and I were out running like a week ago and gave this homeless kid a burger. Noticed him sitting at a different wall this morning, he refused money but accepted some muesli bars. Poor boy's got some trust issues.'

'Oh.' Tony says, and heads for a coffee refill.

'Did you find out his name?' Clint says, and then clutches his head. 'God, there's way too many handsome men in Lord of the Rings. And that was just Return of the King. Jesus.'

Tony grins triumphantly. 'I thought you were straight.'

'Uh. Probably. Kinda. But I can still appreciate Viggo Mortensen's face-'

'Oh, that sweat and scruff.' Tony says dreamily.

'-and Orlando Bloom's twinkiness...'

'Is that even a word?' Sam asks.

'It is now.'

'And Hugo Weaving's eyebrows-'

'Hugo Weaving looks like Redskull.' Steve says, walking in, Bucky trailing behind. Bucky's hair is messed up and Steve has a red mark on his neck.

Sam grins. 'Hey Buck, I see you woke your boy up successfully.'

Steve blushes and Tony and Sam snicker.

'Wait, I thought Redskull had, y'know, a red skull face thingy.' Tony says and then promptly downs half of his coffee.

'He _did_ , but he had a... a fake face?'

'Wh-?'

'Like he pulled off the fake face and underneath was his red skull face.'

'Oh.' Sam says.

'It's too early for this.' Tony waves his hand dismissively.

'It's ten o'clock.'

'Like I said, too early.'

Tony heads back over to the couch and Sam turns to Clint.

'No.'

'No?'

'He didn't tell me his name. I asked and he freaked out a bit, so I didn't push.'

'Hm.' Clint says. 'I _would_ say he's just a random kid, we'll probably never see him again, etc etc, but there's something about him that I just can't shake.'

'Yeah.' Sam says, gazing out the window at the city beneath them. 'Yeah, I agree.'

 

-

 

Peter spends most of the next few days wandering around New York. Over time he's steadily moved away from Queens, to more central and busy locations. His chest hurts like shit (look, he knows it's a bad idea to bind practically 24/7, especially while he sleeps, but he just doesn't fucking care anymore), and he's hungry. But he keeps walking, steadily trudging wherever his feet take him.

In the afternoon of what he thinks is probably the third day since he'd left his wall, he finds himself out the front of Midtown Tech.

It's a bit of a surprise, that his subconscious had led him here in his wanderings, of all places, and the school is a bit of a sad sight for him.

 

He'd always set his sights on doing something with his life. Something successful, and something that wasn't just Spider-Man. But here he is, an orphaned high school dropout, wandering the streets with only a couple of dollars and a muesli bar in his ratty backpack.

 

The bell rings, and he realises too late that _shit_ , it's a school day, and then kids are pouring out the front entrance, happy and ready to go back to their safe, warm homes. Peter backs away, pulling his hood up, and ends up sitting atop a building across the street as he watches the rest of the students head off.

Their chatting and laughing and their happiness and noise fills the air and he's choking on it, choking on his tears-

 

A familiar voice rises above the other conversations. 'Dad said we're going to that new science museum this weekend!'

'That sounds great, Ned.'

'You could come if you want.'

'Thanks, but I've got homew-'

Peter looks up in realisation and he two figures freeze.

'Ned. Look. On the building there.'

'Peter? Oh my god. Oh my god.'

 

-

 

MJ grabs Ned's arm in a death grip, and but he’s already gone pale and is staring at the figure huddled on top of the building in front of them, who is staring back down at them.

'Ned. Quick. Call Tony.'

Ned does as she says, fumbling with his phone as they watch the figure stumble to his feet and run, leaping over to the next building and barely making it.

 

'H'lo?' Tony's voice is slightly slurred.

'Mr Stark! It's Ned here, Peter's friend, and MJ and I just got outta school and we saw Peter on top of the building opposite the school, and he's running away but I think he's weak because he can't jump very far and-'

'Woah, kid, slow down- wait, Peter? Holy shit, oh god, hang on, I'll be there in a minute-'

The phone hangs up and Ned bursts into tears. MJ doesn't seem to mind him clinging to her much. She's kinda got used to it.

 

-

 

The first news of Peter in seven months, and Tony had been asleep on his lab bench.

But he suits up the fastest he probably ever has, already leaping off the balcony before it's even finished forming around him. Someone yells from inside, but he can't wait. _Peter's out there_.

 

He flies low over the buildings all the way to Midtown, where he can see Ned and MJ pointing frantically. He heads that way, dodging through alleyways and over the tops of building, keeping an eye out for anything vaguely resembling Peter, but all he spots are a huddle of teenagers around a ziplock bag of what looks like crack (trust him, he knows it when he sees it) that he blasts into dust with a repulser, a cat sitting on a windowsill that hisses at him, and two mean-looking men skulking in a dark doorway. FRIDAY scans the area too, but even she doesn't pick up anything.

Peter's completely disappeared again.

 

The sun is going down before he stops searching and sits down heavily on the edge of a building. The city is lit up, bustling beneath him, a bright, noisy, beating heart.

 

 

Pepper finds him later, sitting in his lab, still partially in his suit, tear tracks down his face, slumped against a bench with a glass of something strong (he hadn't really looked at the bottle, sue him) clutched in his hand.

'Oh, Tony.' She says, and sits down beside him. He leans into her warm embrace, and she gently prises the glass from his hand. 'Is this about-'

 

'Sir.' FRIDAY's voice, urgent and sounding slightly worried, interrupts them. 'Dr Banner has asked you to come down to the private medbay immediately.'

 

-

 

Peter runs, blindly, frantically, throwing himself building to building, scrambling over rooftops. _Ned and MJ saw him NedandMJsawhimNedandMJsawhimNedandMJsawhim, oh god ohgodohgod_ \- He misses his friends, he really does. But he's protecting them, staying away like this, isn't he?

 

And he can't breathe and his chest is too tight and his ribs ache and his fingers are raw from tearing at the concrete and tiles and bricks as he throws himself building to building and he's got to go faster and and

 

He's momentarily distracted by something or other and looks up for a moment- he doesn't know how long he's been going for but he's not in a part of town he knows, god he's so screwed- and in that second he grabs onto something, a loose tile maybe, and all of a sudden he's plummeting to the ground, over the side of the apartment, falling through the air into a dark alleyway-

 

The landing knocks the wind out of him and several things crunch ominously inside him. His backpack is flung to the side, just out of his reach.

' _Fuck_ , fuck, ahh fuck.' He attempts to pull himself up but his arms don't seem to be working and he can't feel his legs.

 

 

Spider-Man always gets back up again.

Whatever happens, whatever he faces, he always pulls himself back up and finishes it. Whether he's in pain or just weary, he always, _always_ , gets back up. He keeps fighting.

 

 

Peter Parker doesn't. And Spider-Man is gone.

 

He'd never thought he'd die like this. Malnourished and exhausted in a back alleyway, staring up at the few stars that struggle through the smog.

Never thought he'd die alone and so fucking weak, rather than in battle.

But here he is.

 

The building and sky above him are fading out of view, and Peter smiles slightly.

He can't hurt anyone now.

 

And that's the last thing he thinks before his eyes close and he sinks into darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip clint, died of aragorn  
> (big mood tho)
> 
> if you've seen endgame and are also in pain, check out my endgame fix-it series (I'll love you forever)!! I've literally been writing non-stop since endgame someone yell at me to sleep plz  
> there won't be any endgame spoilers or events in this fic, dw ;)


	4. breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for panic attack. beware.

It's actually Clint who finds Peter. Clint is just in the right place at the right time, and he's always just in the wrong place at the wrong time, no matter how hard he tries, Tony can't help but think as he sits with his head in his hands.

 

-

 

Whenever he goes outside, Clint may or may not have been subconsciously checking walls and alleyways that he would've used back in the day, if he'd been in New York.

And he may or may not have been going on runs more often, or volunteering himself for grocery shopping or emergency movie night snack runs. Natasha eyes him with suspicion, but he just shrugs and heads out again.

 

He knows it's stupid.

It's just a random kid they've run into a few times. One of many random homeless kids on the streets of New York.

But ever since that fateful day when he'd gazed outside the burger joint, Clint hasn't been able to get him out of his head.

 

So here he is, on an evening walk.

There's something in his gut telling him to keep going, and he does, until he's wandering along a street lined with ageing apartment buildings.

Because if there's one thing Clint knows, it's to trust his instinct.

 

_Crash_.

It's not a particularly loud crash, but he's got his hearing aids turned up as sensitive as he can bear (thank _god_ \- or, well, Stark for that feature). It comes from ahead of him, and he runs down the sidewalk, ignoring the people giving him weird looks, and glances in every shadowy alleyway until he finds the source of the noise.

 

There, on the grubby concrete, lies a bundle of something.

At first Clint thinks it's some old rags or garbage or something, but there's blood on the ground and when he gets closer he can see a familiar red hoodie and torn converse, lying next to a backpack and shards of some sort of tile.

 

Oh god.

It's him.

 

'Kid? Kid!' He drops down beside the motionless body and searches for a pulse. 'Holy shit, you're alive. Okay, okay.' Clint takes a deep breath in, and checks his injuries.

Bad.

'Hey, kid, it's me, Clint.' He draws the boy up into his lap, running his fingers through greasy hair. 'You're safe, you're gonna be okay.'

At this point he's talking more to reassure himself than anything.

'I'm gonna take you to hospital. You're gonna be alright, we're gonna get you fixed up-'

'N- hs'ptl.'

The voice is quiet and hoarse, but Clint catches the flicker of eyelashes and the twitch of fingers and almost sobs in relief.

'You gotta go to hospital, kid, they'll-

'No.'

It's still shaky and almost silent, but his resistance is undeniable. Clint runs his hand through his short hair anxiously. He understands the no hospital thing, he really does.

'Okay, alright, I respect that. But I'm going to get you somewhere, somewhere where they can fix you up. But not a hospital.'

The kid seems content with that, or maybe just doesn't hear him, and doesn't say anything more. Doesn't open his eyes back up either.

Clint grabs his phone from his pocket and calls the first number he thinks of.

 

'Clint?'

'Nat, holy shit, can you get to where I am ASAP?'

Natasha must hear the urgency in his voice because she puts on her mission voice. ''Kay, be there in five or so. I'm stealing one of Tony's cars, keep an eye out for the red Audi.'

'Bring medical supplies.'

'Already on it. You okay?'

'I am, but... you'll see. Just... get here fast, okay?'

He hears the growl of a motor coming to life and Nat hangs up, but not before she speaks one more time. 'Hold on, Clint, I'm coming.'

 

Peter is so damn light in his arms, Clint's jacket soaking up the blood from his wounds.

_He must have fallen_ , Clint thinks, glancing up at the buildings above them, _but what the hell was he doing that high up anyway?_

 

He fumbles with his phone again, smearing blood on the screen. It only dials a few times before a voice answers.

'Hi?'

'Bruce, I'm gonna need you to set up the medbay.'

 

-

 

Tony taps his foot impatiently as the lift descends.

 

Bruce would've mentioned if one of the Avengers was hurt, wouldn't he?

He does a mental tally of where each team member is, his fingers twitching nervously.

Him, Bruce, Sam and Natasha are in the Tower. Clint is out on a walk or whatever he does around the city in the evenings. Steve, Bucky, Wanda and Vision are off doing some SHIELD thingy. Rhodey is upstate with secret army business.

 

Tony's head is running through all sorts of horrible scenarios when the elevator doors open to reveal a nervously pacing Sam, Clint, slumped against the wall with blood all over his shirt and hands, and Natasha, sitting relatively calmly next to Clint, swinging a pair of car keys back and forth from her fingers.

At first he freaks out, thinking that Clint's the one hurt, but he looks fine otherwise, so he concludes-

_It must be someone else's blood._

 

Sam finally seems to notice him, and stops his pacing. 'Tony!'

'Uh, what's happened? Is everyone okay?'

'Y'know that kid Clint and I have been mentioning? The homeless one?'

'What about him?'

'Well, Clint was out walking, and-'

Clint looks up at them. 'And he was just lying there, barely alive, and I brought him here because he didn't want to go to hospital.'

'Oh.' Tony exhales, and then immediately feels guilty for feeling relieved. A kid's hurt. But not one of the Avengers. Not someone he knows or feels personally accountable for.

'Bruce wanted to get you down here so you knew what was going on, and not freak out when you find out there's a random kid in the tower.'

'Right. Thanks.'

At that moment, the door opens and a dishevelled-looking Bruce sticks his head out. Clint leaps up from his spot. 'How's he doing?'

'Ah... alright. I've got him as patched up as I can for now, and I'll start on casts and stuff soon. If you all want, you can come in and see him for a couple of minutes.'

Sam and Clint all but race through the door, and Tony heads in after Nat. They're very invested in the kid, obviously. He must be something special if they like him enough to crowd so anxiously around his bed.

Bruce waves to the hologram of an X-Ray he's pulled up. 'Poor kid's sustained some damage. I'm kinda surprised he's still alive, with those injuries on top of a shit-load of malnutrition and exposure to the weather. I hope he pulls through.'

The X-Ray is a nasty sight. Bruce sighs starts listing off his injuries.

'Fractured skull, a heap of broken ribs, ouch, left arm fractured at the-'

His voice fades into the background as Tony crosses the room towards the bed surrounded by machines and other medical crap. Clint steps aside for him and he peers down at the boy lying on top of the blood-speckled white sheets, swathed in bandages, which are especially heavy around his chest, and bruises covering basically every bare inch of skin-

 

His gaze wanders up to the kid's face and he feels like the whole room drops out from underneath him.

 

 

It's Peter.

 

_Oh god, it's Peter._

And suddenly he's on the floor, fingers digging into the shiny white surface, staring at his blurred reflection, gasping for breath because that's _his kid._

'Tony, what the hell!' Someone shouts, but it sounds like he's underwater and everything's pressing down on him, crushing him-

 

'Tony, Tony, breathe, what's wrong?'

 

All he can say is _my kid_. Over and over, while hot tears splash down his cheeks and he chokes on air.

 

'Tony.' Someone grabs him, holding him tightly to their chest. 'Breathe. With me.' It's Bruce.

 

In.

 

Out.

 

 

In.

 

 

 

Out.

 

 

 

 

In.

 

 

 

 

 

Out.

 

 

And slowly, he feels himself return properly to his body, sinking down onto the floor. His face is wet, and everyone is staring at him.

 

'That's my kid. That's my fucking kid.'

'Kid? What kid? Tony?' Sam says.

'Peter- my... my intern. Fuck, holy shit...'

'You have an intern?' Nat looks slightly shocked, which is an expression he's not used to seeing on her.

'I did. H-his Aunt died and he disappeared. I've been looking for him for... half a year.'

'Shit.' Clint breathes, and Sam nods.

'He... he was just some random homeless kid. The world is a crazy place.'

Tony stumbles to his feet, ignoring Bruce's noises of protest, and grips the railing of the bed until his hands are pale and bloodless.

'God, Peter-' He stares at the boy. He looks nothing like the Peter he used to know. The old Peter was happy, excitable and always talking. This Peter is deathly silent.

His skin is pale and he's dirty. His hair is longer, scruffier, lying limply on the pillow like a broken halo. Where he'd once been lean and muscly, he's now so skinny Tony can clearly see his bones.

He's seen Peter beaten up before, of course, but it's never been quite this bad. And if Bruce hasn't noticed his accelerated healing yet, then that must have been affected by the lack of food.

 

Tony focuses again on his face, and is struck by sadness so heavy that he's surprised he doesn't crumple to the floor again.

Peter's face is thin and worn, his lips chapped and bloody. Where he had once looked so happy, he looks tired and sad and empty and so...

So broken.

 

_Did he cause this? Was Peter running from him when he hurt himself?_

 

Oh god. The thought is enough to turn Tony to stone. He grips his hair in shaking fingers and turns to Clint.

'How... how did this happen to him?'

Clint bites his lip. 'Uh. Well... I was walking and I heard this crash, and then there he was, lying in an alleyway. Maybe he fell? There was, like, a roof tile or bit of concrete or something smashed around him. But the buildings were... I just don't know how he could've fallen from them.'

 

'Okay. Right.' Tony drags a deep breath in. 'Everyone out. Except for Bruce. I need to talk to him.'

 

They all comply straight away (something he's not used to, apart from in the occasional battle), giving him worried looks as they leave.

'Tony.' Bruce sighs.

'Yeah.' The door clicks shut and all of a sudden the energy just _goes_. Bruce slides a chair under him and he drops down into it.

'You okay?'

_'Yeah_. Peter's not.'

'Oh, Tony.' Bruce pulls a chair up next to him and they stare at Peter's still body. 'You're not alright. You need sleep.'

'I know, I know, whatever. But I need to talk to you first.'

'I gathered that.'

'Look...' He takes another deep breath, mentally apologises to the kid, and plows on. 'Peter's Spider-Man.'

_'Oh_.' Bruce breathes out. 'That actually makes a lot of sense. Your bond, the fact they've both been missing, the fall damage, the- _wait_.'

Bruce freezes, and Tony prepares himself internally. 'Oh god.'

'Spider-Man is a kid.' Bruce doesn't yell. He never yells. But his quiet, disappointed tone is somehow worse. 'You took a fucking kid to Germany.'

Tony doesn't even try to defend himself.

'How old is he?'

'Uh... Oh, geez, he'd be sixteen now.'

'So he was fifteen.'

'Yeah.'

_'Tony.'_

'I gave him a suit! I tried to protect him! And I've regretted so many things, you have no idea. Every time he's been hurt, I've tried everything I can to make sure it's not happened again. I've been so worried the last seven months, god, I didn't know if he was even _alive_...'

Bruce sighs. 'He really... he really does mean a lot to you, doesn't he?'

Tony looks back across the room, at the still form lying there. 'Yeah. Yeah, he does.'

'Right.' Bruce says, rubs his eyes and goes into business mode. 'What else do I need I know about him? Does he heal fast?'

'Usually, yes. But I'm pretty sure the lack of food has screwed with his powers, because he looks like complete shit.'

'I took some of his blood, so I guess we can check out his spider stuff from that?'

'Yeah, he has weird mutated DNA. I'll explain it more another time.'

'Okay, okay.' Bruce flicks some things across the screen, takes a deep breath and turns to Tony. 'Um, his chest-'

'He's trans. Don't mention it. Was he wearing his binder? Chest binder?'

'Uh, yeah. I had to cut it off, and his chest is pretty bruised along with the broken ribs.'

'Aah, idiot. I don't know how many times I've told him...' He trails off. 'I'll buy him some clothes, some of those stupid science pun shirts he likes. God, I can't believe he didn't come to me, I could've given him a home, a safe place-'

'Tony.' Bruce touches him on his shoulder. 'It's alright. He's safe now.'

'Yeah. He is. Look, don't tell the others he's Spider-Man. His identity is really important to him, we need to let him decide when he'll tell them.'

'Alright.' Bruce says. 'Well, I'll be fine here. Peter will be okay. You need to go get some sleep.'

 

 

Tony tries to sleep that night, but whenever he closes his eyes all he can see is Peter.

 

_'You should have done more!_ ' Peter says, lying broken in his arms. There's red on his mouth, standing out lividly against his pale, thin face. _'You should have saved me! But you don't actually care about me, do you?'_

 

'I do!' He shouts, but it's drowned out by the sound of waves crashing around him. 'I do care about you!'

 

The water laps at his ankles, his knees, his waist, his chest- and Peter's yanked out of his arms into the swirling current - except it's not water now.

It's blood.

 

He tries to run after Peter, but he's stuck in place, as the blood rises higher and higher- his shoulders, his neck, and it's choking him, the metallic taste filling his mouth, his nose, and then everything is red and he's sinking below it-

 

Tony jerks up, spitting nonexistent blood from his mouth. Pepper murmurs sleepily and pulls him back down into the bed, but he doesn't go back to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> go check out my endgame fix-its!!! they're a thing that's happening 
> 
> i'm dead from finishing the school musical (i do backstage its great) but comments give me life so,,, please  
> (i love you all <3)


	5. dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is one thicc bih *attempts to flip Ribena bottle*  
> (okay apparently its only 2800 words rip but it looks big on my phone) (it’s thicc with emotions at least)

 

Peter wakes to a white ceiling above him.

His head- and the rest of him, for that matter, hurts like shit, and so for a moment he's distracted by that.

But something about the ceiling feels strange. It's not his ceiling at home, it's definitely not Ned's ceiling- his has glow-in-the-dark stars everywhere.

The bed is so soft that it feels like he's drowning.

Hold up.

He hasn't slept in a bed for a long time.

 

And then it all comes crashing back down on him.

The fire. Running. The streets.

Tony. Falling.

 

Someone reassuring him that they'll take him to a hospital.

 

Peter jerks up, staring around wildly at the machines hooked up to him and the room beyond.

Then his head catches up to him and he groans as the splitting pain forces him back down.

Okay. Not getting out like that.

 

He focuses back on the bed to distract himself. There's a cast on his arm. An IV in his hand. Lots of bandages and bruises elsewhere. His binder is gone, and his ribs are swathed in bandages underneath a hospital gown. They send sharp pain through his chest with each breath.

Well, that's great.

 

He's not tied up or handcuffed to the bed, so he supposes, _thankfully_ , that they haven't figured out he's Spider-Man. But that's pretty much the only positive in this scenario.

 

Peter hates hospitals. He really does. He's only actually been a patient in one a few times when he was younger, for tonsillitis, broken leg, stitches, etc. But because Ben had often been overseas with work, and May couldn't leave him in the apartment alone back then, he'd been in hospitals often. Sitting in the corner of the nurses' room, colouring in on his little kiddie table. Overhearing stories of operations, diseases, death. Seeing limp bodies rushed past on stretchers. Watching shell-shocked nurses sit at their table, pale hands clutching coffee mugs like a lifeline.

The smell of antiseptic permeates his childhood memories, and after he became Spider-Man it permeated his nightmares as well.

 

Suddenly, the door opens and a man steps in, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he heads over to a bench. He's wearing a white lab coat over a t-shirt that says 'I have anger issues', and sets down a steaming mug next to a hologram screen that pops up. Peter stares in confusion at the technology. He's only seen those signature screens once before, and-

 

Wait.

He sits up again, glancing around the room.

He's not at a hospital.

_He's in Avengers Tower_.

 

And that means-

'Holy shit, you're Dr Banner!'

The man jumps, nearly wiping out his coffee mug, and turns to him. 'Oh! You're awake! Yeah, I'm Dr Banner, but you can call me Bruce. I'm the h-'

'Your research into gamma radiation is unparalleled! We read your third paper in class, and that is some seriously cool shit, especially the experiment with the stem cells! And of course, the trials where you narrowed down the exact amounts of radiation that cause mutated DNA, like what happened with the Hulk- he's cool too- and, oh my god, you have seven PhDs! _Seven!_ I don't think I'll ever get even one...'

Bruce just stares at him, mouth slightly open in shock. 'Uh-'

'Shit, sorry, aah, I'm fanboying too much aren't I? Sorry, sorry...'

'No, kid- I'm... I'm just surprised that you know me for my papers. Most people just know me for being the guy that occasionally turns big and green and smashes up some buildings once in a while.'

'Oh, screw them, your science is awesome! You were actually on our famous scientist wall in my old chem teacher's lab, it was like a bit of a shrine tbh. The teacher would dust them once a week and get us to recite their names once a month. Someone stole Einstein once and took him on holidays to Australia. He sent us a picture of the portrait on the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the teacher went nuts- sorry, I'm going on a tangent, aren't I, anyway I'm just really excited to meet you! Also I might be high on painkillers because whatever you gave me is some good shit and definitely not paracetamol. Everything hurts but not so much that I feel like I'm gonna faint, so that's cool. Anyway, I should probably shut up now, I haven't talked this much in months and I think my throat is going to die.'

Bruce goes from looking shocked to looking amused and slightly... fond? 'Don't worry about it, Peter. How are you feeling? What would you rate your pain level?'

'Wait... you know my name. I didn't tell Sam that. Clint found me, didn't he? It was his voice, so how-'

 

The door opens again.

And Tony Stark walks in.

 

'Mr- Mr Stark, I-'

_'Peter.'_ Tony breathes, and rushes forwards, engulfing the teen in a carefully gentle hug. 'You're awake.'

Peter's eyes go wide, but he puts his non-cast arm around Tony in return and buries his face in his shoulder. A sob wracks his chest and Tony rubs his back soothingly. 'It's okay, it's all okay, I'll look after you now...'

'Mr Stark, I'm sorry, I couldn't save her and- and I just ran. I didn't want to hurt anybody else, I didn't want you to die-'

'Kid. Peter.' He murmurs. 'I'm not going anywhere. And how many times have I told you to call me Tony?'

'Sorry Mr S- uh, Tony.'

'It's okay. I'm so glad Clint found you, who knew that fucker was actually useful?'

Peter chokes out a laugh. 'And Sam. They gave me a burger. Best burger I've ever had.'

'Oh, I can beat that. I know a place, we can go there once you're all healed up, they do the _best_ return cheeseburger _ever_.'

'When... when will I be healed? It _hurt_ , Tony, it hurt so bad- and I gave up-'

'Shh, it's okay. That's all in the past now. And your healing factor is starting to pick up again, thanks to this-' he taps Peter's hand, next to the IV, 'so I'd say you'll be able to walk around within the next few days. You... you've been out for pretty much three days, god, I'm so glad-'

'I'm okay, Mr- Tony. You don't have to worry.'

'Of course I do, kid. It's my job to worry about you.'

Bruce murmurs a little _awww_ from behind them, and Tony straightens up, letting go of Peter and instead sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him.

'So... uh, do Sam and Clint know who I am?' Peter glances nervously over at Bruce.

'Bruce knows you're Spider-Man. I kinda had to tell him, he would've figured out anyway from your DNA. And the whole team knows you were my intern who's been missing for over half a year, but nothing else.'

'The... the whole team? The Avengers? Holy shit!'

Bruce laughs and Tony rolls his eyes.  'You've met them before, Underoos.'

'Still! I've been a fanboy since I was little! I've been an Iron Stan since 2008!'

'An Iron Stan?'

Peter blushes. 'Uh. That's what a lot of Iron Man fans call themselves.'

Bruce bursts out in laughter again. 'I guess I'm an Iron Stan then.'

'Oh my god. Wait. Will I get to meet Thor?'

'He comes over every Friday night for movie night, so yeah. And occasionally he just drops in randomly.' Bruce says, and Peter practically squeals.

'Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, _Thor_. The God of Thunder and Sexy Arms.'

Bruce completely loses it. Tony rolls his eyes and hides a grin. 'Peter, you're fanboying again.'

'I don't even care, it's Thor, literally everyone is in love with him.'

'T- _true_.' Bruce manages to say.

'You too? Really?'

'I was in space with him for however long and you really do start to appreciate those arms when everything else is weird and foreign and spacey.'

'Betrayal.' Tony pouts.

'Oh come on Mr... Tony, don't lie, you love him too.'

He sighs. 'Okay, alright, fine. I do. Everyone does.'

'Ha!' Peter punches the air and then winces. 'Ouch, my... everything.'

'Jesus, kid, you gotta lie back down.'

Peter obeys with a sigh, and Bruce gives him a smile and then heads back across the room to whatever he had been looking at on the screens.

As soon as he's lying in a relatively comfortable position again, his head resting on a softer pillow than he's had in a very long time, Peter's eyelids start feeling heavy and it gets hard to focus on Tony's concerned expression.

'Mr St'rk, I'm g'na go t' sleep now.'

'Okay, Peter.' He goes to stand up, but Peter pulls him back down.

'Nn. Stay. Please?'

Tony smiles, and lays down on the edge of the bed next to Peter instead, brushing his hair out of his face with a gentle hand. 'Of course I'll stay.'

 

-

 

Peter dreams. He hates dreaming.

 

He's standing on some sort of battlefield. Around him is rubble, smoke and dust still hanging in the air, choking him.

He knows that he has to find someone, for some reason, urgently- he just can't remember who.

Everything is empty and silent, the lack of noise ringing in his ears, and he's alone now, so alone-

 

And then warm, comforting arms settle around him and the battlefield fades as he drifts into a happier sleep.

_He's not alone._

 

-

 

When Peter wakes, the dream is just a fleeting memory in the back of his mind, already dissipating like morning mist.

 

For a moment, the white ceiling and the soft bed are again foreign and he goes to leap up, but then he remembers.

The fall. Clint. Bruce. _Tony_.

 

There's a warm weight pressing against his side, and he turns his head to discover that it's Tony curled up tightly on the edge of the bed, fast asleep. Peter takes the chance to study him properly. The lights in the room are dimmed down, and the blue glow from the arc reactor illuminates his chest and face.

He looks like a mess. His beard isn't as neatly trimmed as Peter's used to, and he has dark shadows under his eyes. Since the last time Peter had seen him, before all this, he's gone a bit more grey and there's more worry lines across his face.

God, his life is so screwed up, and he's dragged Tony down into it.

 

This train of thought brings up the heart-sinking question of _what now_. He can't just stay here. He'd be a burden to Tony, to the goddamn _Avengers_ , especially without Spider-Man.

He'd just endanger them like everyone else. Everyone who's either _dead_ or hasn't seen him for _seven fucking months_. Eight? Nine? He doesn't even know anymore.

 

And then and there, Peter makes up his mind. As soon as he's healed enough, as soon as is possible, he'll leave. Head back to the streets.

It breaks his heart but he knows it's the right thing to do, because as hard as he's tried, the only way he can protect the people he loves is to stay far, far away.

 

 

The next time he wakes, someone is standing over him. He's too sore and exhausted to fight them, so he just lays there and half-heartedly hopes he doesn't get killed.

He blinks a few times and the figure comes into view properly.

'Oh. Hi.' He rasps, and she grabs a cup of water. It's Pepper.

'Hey. How do you feel?' She helps him sit up and take a sip. Tony is still curled up asleep beside him.

'Alright. Ish. Bed's very soft.'

She smiles at him and takes the cup back once he's finished. 'I'm so glad we found you. He- _we_ have been so worried, Peter.'

'I'm sorry-'

'Hey, no. Not your fault. Stuff- well, shit happens.'

Peter can't help but let out a little laugh at that. He loves Pepper too, he really does. But no matter what she says, he's still going to feel bad about it.

'You know, Tony almost never sleeps this well.' She gestures to Tony, who looks probably more peaceful now than Peter's ever seen him.

 

They fall into silence for a few minutes, both watching Tony's chest rise and fall. Pepper's presence is comforting and even _motherly_ \- almost like what he'd always felt with... with May, but still different enough that he leans into it gladly.

 

'Thank you.' Pepper eventually breaks the silence, turning to him with kind eyes.

'For what?' Peter's confused, but he's also starting to fall back asleep, so he doesn't push away her thanks.

'For everything you've done for us. For him. He's changed for you, changed for the better, and things are only going to get better. Don't worry, everything will be alright.'

 

 

_Everything will be alright._

It echoes in his semi-conscious mind.

_Everything will be alright._

_-be alright._

_Alright._

 

-

 

The building is falling. He can't get out.

Concrete blocks bigger than a car pin him down. His face is pressed into a puddle of dank tasting water. It's in his nose, his mouth, his eyes-

And he can't breathe.

He's pretty sure he's broken a rib (or two, or three), and the fucking too-tight elastic of the sports bra he has to wear under his old suit doesn't help in the slightest. On top of that, the world is blurred and he thinks he's probably about to have a panic attack.

Peter digs his fingers into the debris and dust, clutching at it like a lifeline, as if it can save him. He's pretty sure he's cutting his hands in the process, but he doesn't really register it. There's blood (of course there's blood- that's just part of his goddamn life), but he's not feeling the pain- not yet. Maybe he never will.

He knows he's not going to be able to get out of this one, not unless Mr Stark shows up- no. He's not coming. Mr Stark doesn't care about him (why should he?). He only cares about Spider-Man. Peter's useless.

The concrete and metal are crushing him, and the dust is choking him. He didn't stop Vulture. He failed.

He'll never see his friends again. Never see sunlight, never see May, never see Mr Stark-

He doesn't want to die.

The thought triggers something in him, and he struggles against the debris again. _He can't breathe_ \- He's gotta get out- _He deserves to die_ \- He can't move his arms properly-

 

_'Kid! Kid!'_

It's Mr Stark's voice. But that's not right. Mr Stark can't be here, he can't be.

Peter struggles more frantically. The concrete only seems heavier. He's going to die here-

 

_'Peter! Wake up!'_

 

He can't breathe. He can't breathe. He can't-

 

'Peter, Peter, it's okay, you're dreaming.'

 

Mr Stark- _Tony_ is there, on the bed beside him.

'I'm not- oh god...' He can't help but murmur, rubbing his eyes in relief.

'Kid?'

'I'm okay. I'm okay.' Tony has his arms around him and so he's nestled into the man's warm chest. 'It feels funny when you speak.'

The smallest of grins flickers across his lips, but he looks back down with a very serious expression on his face. 'You're not okay. That was a pretty bad nightmare, I'd say, and believe me, I know.'

'Uh.'

'You can tell me, Pete. It's alright.'

He sighs, and lets the tension in his aching body go. The breath hurts his chest, but he can actually breathe again. 'Vulture. It was Vulture.'

He pauses, but Tony's biting his lip and raising his eyebrows, prompting Peter to go on.

'It was- it was the building falling on me. But this time I couldn't get out, and I couldn't breathe, and, and...'

'Woah, Pete, take a breath- wait, what building? What?'

'Uhhhh.'

Peter can feel Tony making an effort to keep his breathing steady. 'Vulture? He- he- you were trapped under that building? The one he made collapse? The one you said you got out of fine?'

'Uhhhhhhhh.'

'And I'd taken the suit away- you were in that goddamn onesie, I- I...'

'I'm sorry, Mr Stark, I'm sorry.'

'Sorry?' Tony says, aghast, and gently wraps his arms back around Peter. 'No. No, I just- god, you could've _died_. I'm so, so glad you didn't, Peter. I'm so glad you're still here. Just... please tell me everything in the future. If you're hurt, if you're having nightmares- if you ever need help. Please?'

'I- I... Okay.'

‘Thank you.’

Tony smiles, and holds him close.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're sad, Tony will come and Care for you (and so will I)
> 
> (if you want tony hugs clap ur hands *clap clap*)
> 
> -
> 
> Uh I do biology (we do way too much cell stuff someone shoot me) and haven't done radiation since like grade 9 so bear with my dodgy science talk for a minute
> 
> Also platonic bed-sharing is my jam lmao
> 
> -
> 
> I'm sorry for the wait aaaahhh,, my uploading schedule isn't very good :/ but thank you so much for all the wonderful comments! i love you all <3


	6. just a lost boy, lost boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enter stucky. exit fanboying peter with a bisexual crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while, and I’m sorry for that. Had some pretty rough and busy times lately, but right now things feel up (a little at least). I hope you like the chapter (its heckin loooong for once hell yee)  
> also there is a liiiitle bit of a discussion of civil war in here. i'm firmly team cap but i still love tony, dw

Steve arrives exhausted back at the tower, Bucky, Wanda and Vision in tow, to find it a bit of a mess. He doesn't see Tony for a couple of days, and it's only when he manages to corner a tired-looking Bruce in the kitchen one morning that he gets an answer.

 

'Uh.' Bruce says, and curls his fingers around his hot mug of coffee.

'Clint, Sam and Nat wouldn't tell us what was going on. Please?'

Bruce sighs (no one can resist Steve's puppy eyes, not even Tony, no matter what he says). 'Fine. That homeless kid that Sam and Clint kept seeing around?'

'Yeah?'

'Well, Clint found him badly injured and brought him back to the tower. We all just thought he was a random boy but then Tony saw him. And he just... _completely_ freaked out. Turns out he's his intern- well, to be honest, basically his kid, who's been missing for like half a year since his Aunt died in an apartment fire. His name's Peter.'

'Huh.'

'That all you got?' Bruce asks, and takes a sip of his coffee.

'The world is a small place sometimes. But still. I didn't know he had an intern?'

'I... I think Tony might have kept him away from you guys on purpose. I only got back six months ago, so I've never seen him in the labs. But apparently he's been around since about the same time as the whole 'civil war' fiasco, or whatever the media's calling it.'

'Oh. Right. And if Tony's protective of him...'

'Yeah. He would've kept the kid away from you all. Sorry.' The hurt that flashes across Steve's face is very clear, and Bruce once again wonders if he and Thor would've been able to keep the team together. _Probably not_ , Tony had said, when they'd discussed it once. (But Bruce can't help but wonder.)

'I'm... I'm glad he's found someone though. Someone he can look out for and look after, it seems. I think he needs it.'

Bruce smiles at Steve's words, and Steve smiles back. 'I think so too.'

'I know Tony and I aren't completely back to the way we use to be. I don't know if we ever will. And we've talked about that. We both have things we'll probably never fully forgive or forget. But I hope we can be something even better.'

'I'm pretty sure Tony hopes that too. I know I certainly do.'

 

-

 

Peter slips in and out of sleep for the next couple of days, and Tony stays with him pretty much the whole time.

It's nice having someone there who actually does seem to care for him, but at the same time he really doesn't want to be a burden to Tony.

'You know, you can leave if you want. You don't have to stay here all the time. I'm sure you have more important things to do.'

Tony gives him a slightly sad smile. 'Peter. Of course I'm going to stay. There nothing more important to me than you.'

 

He doesn't know what to say to that. It's been over half a year since anyone had cared about him, and he instinctively rejects the notion. _You'll hurt him, you'll hurt everyone, you'll hurt yourself-_

 

Eventually, Pepper shows up one morning and drags Tony away temporarily to talk to some business people for a couple of hours.

'I'll be back.' Tony promises, looking worried.

By this time, Peter is able to walk around the room mostly by himself, and he's beginning to feel a little sick of the same white walls and benches. He doesn't mention it, of course. He doesn't want to be a bother.

But Bruce notices. Honestly, Bruce is a godsend and the longer Peter knows him, the more precious and wonderful he gets.

'Hey, Peter.'

'Mm?' He looks up from the screen that Tony had given him, currently playing old episodes of M*A*S*H, because it was the only good thing he could find on (and he and May had used to watch it occasionally, lying on the couch and snacking on microwave popcorn).

'You've healed a lot in the last few days, and I was thinking that you must be getting bored of this room.'

'Oh. Uh, a bit.'

'Cool. Well, there's this little private garden... courtyard-y thingy you can go walk around in for a bit, if you want.'

'Um, sure!'

Bruce grins and heads towards the door. 'I'll show you where it is, and then head back in here. Don't want to give Tony a heart attack by returning to an empty room.'

 

-

 

The garden looks out over the city, and is decorated with greens and golds and autumn browns. It's gorgeous, and Peter takes a deep breath of the fresh, cool air as he steps outside onto a small, winding brick path.

There's a few almost bare trees hanging over it, and soft-looking grasses and bushes scattered around. He even finds a little fishpond with several shimmering golden shapes dancing below the surface.

There's also little bench under one of the trees, and he takes a seat. He's still wearing a hospital gown and the breeze goes straight through the thin fabric, but he's faced worse (and, in a way, it’s kinda nice – the stinging cold that he’s used to rather than the still, too-perfect warmth of inside the tower).

The sky above is cloudless and beautifully blue. There's a bird in one of the trees, calling out, its clear notes piercing the whooshing of the wind through the trees. Peter gazes out over the city, and breathes deeper and slower than he thinks he probably has for months, or even years. The atmosphere of the garden is so calming and he can practically feel the stress and worry draining right out of him.

 

It's so nice, sitting there in the chill, eyes wandering over the familiar shapes of the city and thinking about nothing. Up here it's as if all his troubles drop away to the streets below, as if he can float above them, as if things are okay.

 

He sits on the bench for a while longer before something happens- he hears the soft opening of the door and his Spidey sense goes off, tingling up and down his spine. It's not Bruce or Tony then, and he stands up stiffly and tip-toes around to hide behind a convenient shrub.

Whoever it is must have _really_ quiet footsteps, because he can't hear more than a whisper of the grasses bordering the path (so definitely not Tony – that man's footsteps sound like an elephant's).

He can make out a figure between the bushes and trees, and whoever it is gets clearer as they get closer.

It's a man, he thinks, but don't trust him on that observation - he knows firsthand how gender is a weird little shit. He's wearing a big grey hoodie and jeans, and-

The person, now almost directly in front of Peter's bush, freezes, staring around suspiciously.

'Clint? Sam? You're not trying to prank me, are you?' He pushes almost shoulder-length brown hair out of his eyes, then turns and stares right though the leaves at Peter.

He knows those eyes, that hair, that metal hand poking out from the left sleeve.

'Holy shit, you're Bucky Barnes.' Peter can't help but say, and stands up cautiously.

He's seen the man in battle before, just once since the airport fight, just the flash of a metal arm from on top of a nearby building and then suddenly the whole group of robot creature things that Captain Rogers was attempting to fight by himself had dropped to the ground, perfect bullet wounds straight through each of their heads. _Dammit, Buck, I had them!_ Rogers had yelled at the figure, but he was already out of sight. Of course, he'd also seen him not too long ago, with Sam that one morning - but now the two of them are alone, and he's just _slightly_ concerned-

 

Bucky steps back into what is clearly a fighting stance, and Peter's Spidey sense screams.

'Woah, woah, sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!'

'Who the hell are you?' He steps forward, metal hand clenched, and yep, Peter really does remember that fist. And he doesn't fancy having it hurtling at his face again. He raises his hands in surrender.

'I'm- I'm Peter. Uh. Bruce showed me this place, I promise I'm not a robber, or like, a villain from outer space, or a clone monster thing, or-'

Bucky lowers his fists and takes a step back. 'Peter. Oh! _Oh_ _hh_. The boy Sam and I saw that day. You look different without a hoodie. You're Tony's kid, right? The one that's been missing?' He narrows his eyes and Peter forces himself to meet them and not go running because he's seen pictures of the Winter Soldier, and he can imagine that glare followed by a bullet through his forehead-

'Uh. Yeah. Yeah, that's me. Tony's at a meeting or something.'

'Oh, finally, Ms Potts has been threatening to physically drag him away from your room for days.'

'I'm sorry, aaahhh, I told him he could leave me if he needed-'

'Why are you apologising?' Bucky's staring at him again, as if cataloguing all the bruises and the bandages and the cast on his arm. His eyes linger on Peter's chest for a moment too long, and Peter bites his lip at the familiar, uncomfortable wave of dysphoria. His chest is loosely bandaged, though they're not compression bandages- Tony had glared at him when he'd tried to tighten them to more than his scrapes and bruises called for. He'd flat-out growled at Peter about safe binding and broken ribs when he'd asked if he could even just put a tight sports bra on. At least the bagginess of the hospital gown covered it all a bit, and he'd thankfully never had a particularly large chest.

'Uh.' He answers, and Bucky sighs, looking exasperated.

'You really- wait, shit, you must be freezing!'

'Uh.' He says again, and becomes aware that he's shivering and his feet are going numb. Oops. 'Yeah, actually, I am.'

Suddenly Bucky's human hand is gripping his shoulder lightly and marching his back towards the door. 'What are you-'

'Don't worry, I'm not kidnapping you, I'm taking you to get a goddamn jumper.'

'Oh.' Is all Peter can say. 'Right. Thanks.'

 

Bucky walks him to the elevator and they ascend several levels until they walk out into a wide, spacious, living area.

'This is Stevie's and my level. Stark gave us a helluva lotta space, and I don't know what to do with it all, but oh well.'

 _'OhmygodCaptainAmerica!'_ Peter squeaks, and the figure stretched out on the couch leaps up.

'Don't mind him, just part of the furniture, having his little grandpa naps-'

'Bucky, you asshole, you're older than me.'

'And yet I aged so gracefully you can't even tell. Also, language.' He gives Steve an exaggerated wink, and the man sighs.

Peter watches the interaction with pretty much literal stars in his eyes, and completely ceases to function because _holyfuckCaptainFuckingAmerica_ is walking towards him and he's next to _BuckyGoddamnBarnes_ and holy shit Steve's shirt is like really really tight and this is why he's bisexual and-

Bucky starts cackling and Peter blushes so much that he thinks he could be mistaken for freaking Redskull as he realises that he must have said all that aloud.

'I mean, same.' Bucky says, and claps him (carefully) on the shoulder. 'Anyway, gloriously tight shirts aside, Steve- this is Stark's kid.'

'I'm... I'm not-'

Bucky fixes him with a bewildered stare. 'Peter, he didn't leave your side for basically a week.'

Peter splutters in response but doesn't get to say anything more because Steve is holding out his hand. 'Nice to meet you, Peter.'

Peter takes the offered hand and shakes it firmly like Uncle Ben had taught him all those years ago. 'Really- really nice to meet you, Mr- uh, Mr America.'

Bucky starts laughing again. 'Mr America! Never heard that one before!'

'Uh- I'm-'

'If you say sorry-' Bucky starts threateningly.

'You can call me Steve.' He says, ignoring Bucky and thankfully not mentioning Peter's probably-too-long handshake. Honestly, Peter's just glad he's only embarrassed himself a little. Inside he's an excited mess. He honestly doesn't know how he kept it together when he met Tony for the first time (or the second time, or the third).

'We're actually not here for handshakes and hero-worship, though you might not believe it. I brought the kid up here to get him a jumper.'

'Oh, cool. None of ours are gonna fit him though.'

Bucky shrugs. 'Oh well, Stark can buy him some that do. Knowing him, he's probably ordering clothes online right now.'

 

-

 

Tony is, in fact, ordering clothes online right at that moment. Pepper glares at him again, and he sighs and puts his phone down.

Sure, the meeting is probably important (at least, the guy sitting opposite him gesturing wildly and looking very excited that the board seems to like his proposition for a partnership between the two companies seems to think so) but honestly, buying Peter clothes seems 100% more interesting and yes, 100% more important right now.  So far, he's managed to buy a heap of science pun shirts, and he thinks Peter is gonna be proud of him. He's also bought pants and hoodies and jackets and all that stuff (and totally not a set of Iron Man pyjamas. Or a pair of Spider-Man socks. Or a Hulk shirt. Yeah, he totally hasn't scoured the web for Avengers merch on multiple occasions. Definitely not).

 

-

 

Bucky leads Peter across the living area and into one of a few doors on the other side.

'This is the bedroom, we have an _enormous_ closet.' Peter raises his eyebrows at 'the bedroom' and Bucky winks.

'Not that we really need it, neither of us have anywhere near as many clothes as Tony.'

'Dang, Steve, I thought you were about to make a gay joke.'

'I am a gay joke.' He deadpans, and Peter thinks he's about to cry.

'Am I dead? Have I gone to heaven? Help?'

'Steve's been spending too much time being educated by the internet. And watching Lord of the Rings with Clint and Tony. That scruffy fellow sure is handsome. Also, I'm pretty sure you're not dead, so don't worry.'

Neither of them make any more gay jokes, and Peter's slightly glad. He's already extremely overwhelmed, and- _holy crap_ Steve's ass is even better than his tight shirt. Who even created this man? How is he so wonderful? What God has suddenly blessed this timeline?

 

Bucky eventually finds the smallest hoodie they have, which still goes down to Peter's knees. It's warm though, and soft, and he engulfs Bucky in a hug.

'Thank you.'

'Y-you're welcome, kid.' He doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands, but other than that it's a pretty good hug (at least he hasn't stabbed anyone. Earlier Peter had caught a glimpse of a knife handle in his boot so it's a possibility).

 

-

 

Steve and Bucky walk him back downstairs to the medbay, and along the way he learns:

\- Steve still feels extremely guilty for the whole 'Civil War' fiasco

\- Bucky is much more comfortable in the 21st century than Steve, especially with technology, but Steve's getting there

\- Steve is a troll

\- the two of them are so utterly happy and in love that it makes his heart swell

 

Peter feels a little divided on his involvement in the airport fight. On one hand, it had been awesome to feel like he was part of the freaking _Avengers_ , and of course, he would follow Tony to the ends of the Earth. On the other hand, the whole thing was a mess and he can now see why Steve had fought so hard (and against his newfound family) to protect Bucky.

 _It's all in the past_ , he reminds himself. And anyway, neither Steve nor Bucky know he had been Spider-Man.

 

By the time they get back to the medbay, Tony's sitting in a chair with his feet up on a bench, jigging his feet nervously. He glances up as the three of them enter, and his face lights up. 'Peter! I was just going to come find you, Bruce had to- oh. I see you met Steve and Bucky.'

'Yeah! Bucky found me in the garden and took me to get a jumper.' Peter says, and lifts up his hands to show the too-long sleeves.

'Oh.' Tony says again, standing up, his face unreadable. 'I was just ordering you some clothes.'

'Ha!' Bucky grins in triumph. 'I knew it!'

Steve ignores him. 'Tony, don't worry, we're not going to steal your kid.'

'He's not my-' Tony and Peter begin at the same time, and then look surprised.

Bucky scoffs. 'Bullshit. Come on, Stevie, let's go.'

Steve lets Bucky drag him away, and Peter waves goodbye to them as they leave the room.

There's a minute of silence and the two of them just stand there awkwardly. Tony takes a deep breath. 'Hey, so… uh. I was wondering if you wanted to call Ned and MJ. Video call maybe. I've talked to them a few times over the past months, and since you came here I've been updating them on how you're going. They've been worried, Pete.'

Peter can't help but feel guilty, and he nods. 'Yeah. Yeah, I'll talk to them.'

It feels almost easier to just refuse, and not talk to them, go on without like he had been. But they're his friends. He can't do that to them. He's done enough damage already.

 

Tony places a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly, and presses a few things on his phone.

‘You ready?’ He asks, and Peter takes a deep breath and nods again.

‘Yeah. Yeah, I am.’

Tony presses a button, swipes his finger upwards, and suddenly there’s a screen filling the wall in front of them with Ned and MJ’s faces on it.

‘Hi.’ He says, and attempts a smile.

‘Oh my god, Peter, _ohmygod_ -’ Ned’s got tears in his eyes already. So has Peter.

‘I’m so glad you’re okay, loser.’ MJ grins at him, but he can detect an extremely relieved and… sad? undertone to it.

‘I- I’m sorry.’

‘Damn right you should be.’ She says, and Peter notices that her arm is around Ned, holding him close to her side. The two of them have obviously got closer in his absence, and he’s glad that they at least had each other. It’s outweighed again by the guilt of him abandoning them for so long though. It was for everyone’s own good, he tells himself. Shut up, brain.

‘I miss you two. I’m really, really sorry. I should’ve- but I was trying to protect you. I couldn’t let the two of you get killed as well, I-’

‘We’re fine, Peter. And Mr Stark can protect you, he’s literally freaking _Iron Man_.’ Ned can’t help but fanboy, and Peter’s heart aches for their old friendship.

‘You should have just gone to him, you self-sacrificial idiot.’ MJ says, but her tone is soft and concerned. Tony puts his arm around him, and Peter registers the salty tears on his cheeks as they brush against the man’s shirt.

‘I- I was trying to protect him too.’ It’s barely a whisper, but they all hear it, and he chokes on the lump in his throat and buries his face into Tony’s chest. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’

 

The two of them stay like that for a few minutes, Tony standing strong and Peter clinging to him like it'll stop him from being dragged away by a sea of guilt and sadness.

MJ, Ned and Tony talk about everyday things, like AcaDec training, classes and home life, and Peter lets their voices wash over him. It's nice, hearing it all again, like everything is normal. To hear about the old routines of school, of grumpy teachers, of exams galore. It's nice, but it hurts. He feels so alien, so far away from the person he'd been before all this, from the person that everyone expected him still to be. He feels so different from everyone else, like the little match girl looking in on all these scenes of happiness and normality while he freezes outside.

'Did anyone notice?' He surprises himself by speaking up, and too late realises he'd interrupted Ned in the middle of a sentence. _Idiot, idiot, you fucking idiot, let him keep speaking, you've screwed him over enough with all this-_

'Did anyone notice?' Ned repeats, looking confused. Peter untucks himself slightly from Tony's shirt and clears his throat.

'At school. Did anyone notice I was gone?'

It's something he's thought about a lot, especially in the late nights under awnings or dusty warehouse ceilings, his back pressed against cold concrete. Would anyone notice? Would anyone think twice about him? Would someone report him missing, would they go to his old apartment and find nothing but ash? Would they all just explain it away as another quiet nerd moving schools, moving away to some other city, maybe even jumping off a bridge or something gossip-worthy. Disappearing into vague memories, into mentions of that one kid who must have left without anyone noticing - _hey, you remember that skinny boy up the back of chem who always answered questions right, even if he'd been sleeping? Yeah, I haven't seen him in a year, I don't think. I wonder when he left?_

'Yeah, of course they did.' Ned says, expression concerned. 'We all miss you so much.'

'Who?'

'Well, MJ and I, of course. The AcaDec squad. Flash was actually kinda worried, like the rest of them, he just hid it.'

'They've forgotten me now, though.'

'They haven't. We still sometimes accidentally leave you a seat at lunch or at practise, people sometimes as where you've gone-'

'Oh.'

'Peter, no one is going to forget you. You're not an easy person to forget.'

'As cheesy as that is,' MJ says, 'it's true.'

'Yeah. And y'know, you're always welcome to come back to school. If you're ready. Someday. We'd all love that.'

Ned's sincerity is something Peter has truly missed. There's an ache inside him, somewhere in his heart, and all he wants right now is to be enfolded by Ned's big soft arms and be hugged until he falls asleep.

'Thank you.' He finds himself saying. 'Yeah… Someday. I hope.'

 

Ned smiles at him, and so does MJ. Sweet, joyful smiles with sadness and unearthed grief hidden beneath their eyes.

 

'Wait, I gotta tell you who I met today. You'll never believe who it is that gave me this jumper!'

 

They talk for maybe an hour. It's more Ned and MJ talking about everything he's missed, everything that's happening in their world, than it is him talking, but that's okay.

There's something happening with his lips, with his face. It kinda hurts, because his lips are chapped and cracked. It pulls the bruises still on his cheeks tightly, but it's kinda nice.

Oh.

It's a smile. A much bigger one than he's felt in ages and ages.

 

Peter holds Tony close and smiles at Ned and MJ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> steve making a gay joke may be ooc but it is not as ooc as he was in endgame fight me irl russo bros  
> Hope to upload again within the next couple of weeks, but I’ve got so many other WIPs and so much school shit that I’m not sure if that’ll happen. This fic isn’t abandoned though, I love it way too much for that.   
> Thanks for all your support, it really means a heap to me <3
> 
> Also,,, go check out my other, recent fics too,,,, if u want,,,,,,,, u might find something you enjoy,,

**Author's Note:**

> rip May, her cooking finally defeated her :(
> 
> comments make my day!! a good day means i write more so,,, please


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